


Rapture

by Jenny Colt (LadyBernkastel)



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2533139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBernkastel/pseuds/Jenny%20Colt





	Rapture

Wide blue eyes glanced forward, but they were devoided of any emotion as if it was sucked out of those disturbing irises. Chest heaved up and down, a clear remark that she was indeed breathing, but her body did not moved. It stood still, flat and hollow. Parted lips, a pink tone tinting them, but no words left her mouth. No reaction came from the woman as the witch poured the cruel words over her.  
  
When the cold metal touched her alabaster skin, she didn't even flinch at the sudden change of temperature, she just shifted her glance to Bernkastel's violet eyes filled with amusement. Remaining quiet and resting her hands on her lap, she was so decidedly absent. When the blade digged further in her flesh - blood dripping onto her cold, white little fingers - the girl didn't even blink.   
  
For some reason, the absence of reaction was starting to anger the witch. "Why are you so quiet?" Bernkastel hissed her question, anger flashing in her big purple eyes. Still, the woman didn't even move. She remained quiet and still as a beautiful statue carved in porcelain, her green hair spread around her figure and her soft position as she sat on the chair. "Let me hear this voice of yours, Clair."  
  
Shifting the scythe on her hands, the blue-haired witch glared at the other woman, taking a step forwards. Lifting her hand so her fingers could curl around Clair's delicate chin and force her head up so the witch could look straight into her blue eyes. What she saw - what she thought she saw there in between the endless sky of depair, made her anger grow and she abruptly dropped the other's head.   
  
"What is it in your eyes?" Her loud, angered voice echoed in the woman's head. Once again, no answer came from her lips and Bernkastel, raged, hit the pale cheek with the back of her hand, smirking mischieviously as she watched Clair's face forcibly turn to the side. Still, she made no sound. Hurting her phisically wouldn't be enough and she knew it, but the witch had an incredible ability with words.  
  
"Are you wondering why haven't your prince charming came here yet and saved you?" She asked, watching the other's expression carefully as she approached more. "I am so sorry, Clair." Her voice was low, dangerous. "But no one would lose their time saving such waste of space as you." She gripped at her chin once more, forcing the woman to look at her. There was now something in her gaze, something that sent a chill up Bernkastel's spine.  
  
"Oh, are we finally getting somewhere?" She asked as her delicate face distorted into a wicked grimace, a big evil smile filling her lips. "Does the truth hurt more than my scythe cutting down your skin?" She clicked her tongue, waiting for what she was believed as facade to drop. "You're a tiny, meaningless piece of nothing. And you will never be any more than that." She broke into a sick, bitter laughter.   
  
The green haired woman seemed unafected, a blank expression on her pale blue orbs. Sit there and allow Bernkastel to drop all of her anger to her was the best thing she could do. Retort to her harsh, cruel worlds would do no good but please the witch. Truly, Clair didn't care with the words nor with the pain. She just wanted for it to be over with, to be done. She had no use in being half alive.  
  
Clair was dead all along. She was a dead girl, wearing the skin of a puppet, brought back for Bernkastel's sick enjoyment. Because the blue haired witch liked to play with broken toys. She enjoyed to see their cracks, to poke it with a stick, to watch them squirm under it. She liked to tear it completely apart, slow enough for her to enjoy their suffering. And that was all the green haired woman was to her. A playtoy.


End file.
